Moments In Time
by brownpaperbags
Summary: A series of small stories and moments in Camelot. All characters will be represented, but mostly Arthur and Merlin. Stories will include: drinking games, lost bets, awkward chats and moments, arguments, Merlin's kiss, a baby, a fishing pole...and so much more! Stories will range from comedic to angst and anywhere in between. Hope you enjoy! Please REVIEW!
1. Flowers For Your Grave

Author's Note: This is just a little thing I am going to be working on in my down time...which I do not have much of. I am unfortunately going to be taking a little break from my other stories for the time being. I am too busy to keep up with them, but they are not forgotten or abandoned. I am going to be making a compilation of one chapter stories from various times in the life of Merlin. They will encompass all characters to some degree, but will mostly focus on Arthur, Merlin and their unique relationship. I love feedback so please REVIEW! Anyways, here is the first story. I hope you enjoy!

*Set sometime in Season 2

Something was bothering Arthur Pendragon. And, for once, it wasn't Merlin.

Merlin supposed he should take some comfort in not being the cause of Arthur's temper tantrum. After all, it was a very rare thing indeed for the prince to not find some way to blame whatever had angered him on his servant. Normally, Merlin would have taken the reprieve with a silent prayer of gratitude to the gods, but there was something different about Arthur's mood this time. A certain severity that Merlin could not ignore. There was tension in his master's shoulders, a haunted bitterness that Merlin could not escape.

Arthur had been in his foul mood for the better part of a week. He'd hardly spoken to Merlin and when he had it had almost always been to chastise him in some way. It felt to Merlin that nothing he did was good enough for the prince. Of course, if Merlin were honest with himself that was how it normally was, but while Arthur often teased his servant about his general inefficiency, Merlin knew that, beneath it all, Arthur really was only teasing. After all, they had an image to maintain. A degree of haphazard and reluctant fondness for another that the other servants and denizens of the castle had come to rely upon.

This week, however, the taunts had been mean spirited. Arthur had purposely spoken to him with harsh words meant to hurt and, even worse, acted as if Merlin didn't exist unless he had done something wrong. As soon as Merlin made a mistake, Arthur tore into him as if he were a hound and Merlin was a bone. It hadn't mattered who heard, hadn't mattered who was watching. By the time the week had come to an end, the boys weren't speaking to one another.

It had taken everything Merlin had to pull himself from bed and march up to Arthur's chambers on Saturday morning. He had probably stared at the door for five minutes before he could work up enough goodwill towards the prince to go inside only to discover that Arthur had shut him out. The doors to Arthur's room were locked. Merlin could do nothing but stare in amazement. The doors had never been locked. Even when Arthur despised Merlin the prince had allowed him to enter, however reluctant his admittance might have been.

Merlin tried the door once more, as if his persistence could break locks, but was met with the same obstinance as before. Hurt swept through him despite his anger over Arthur's childish tantrum. He had done nothing to deserve treatment like this. Arthur could be unfair, could be rude and was certainly a prat, but he had never been cruel. Not like this.

Merlin kicked the door hard. He wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping for, but surely his insolence would incite anger in his master. Anger enough to open the door and confront him, berate him. They would argue, but at least Arthur would be there. At least the door would be opened. All his actions did, however, was incite his foot to throb. There was no answer from behind the prince's door. Not even a hint that the prince was there...even though Merlin knew that he was. He could sense Arthur's presence like a tangible thing, like the vibration of taut strings after being plucked.

Merlin had waited for a few moments for something to happen, for Arthur to show his face, but he never did. There was nothing else for Merlin to do, but go about his day and wait for the prince to come out of hiding. After all, Arthur had duties to attend to. Surely, the young man wouldn't abandon the very things he held sacred. He had knights to train, matters of court to attend to. Merlin would just do the tasks assigned to him and confront his friend when he poked his head out of his hole.

Only...Arthur never did poke his head out. He remained in his chambers for the rest of the day. Even when Merlin brought him lunch and dinner the door never opened. Merlin had no other option but to return home and see if tomorrow brought about any change. He wasn't happy about it and for the rest of the night Merlin was so surly that Gaius sent him to bed out of exasperation. Merlin fell asleep thinking of all the ways he'd like to pummel Arthur Pendragon. Turning the crown prince of Camelot into something slimy might get him killed, but damn it was tempting.

Merlin was dreaming about a frog shaped Arthur when something hit him hard in the head. He awoke violently, hands rising to cover his head, with visions of Arthur croaking still dancing behind his eyes. A cold hand wrapped around his mouth and Merlin, without any real thought about who might be waking him up in the middle of the night, bit down hard. The owner of the mauled hand swore loudly and thumped him on the side of the head. Merlin immediately let go. Not because the blow to his head had hurt him, but because the cursing voice was alarmingly familiar.

"I can't believe you bit me," Arthur whispered harshly from across the room, holding his bitten hand and staring at Merlin as if he'd never seen him before.

"You snuck into my room," Merlin said, thinking that Arthur was lucky he hadn't been blasted with magic instead. "You deserved whatever you got."

"You bit me," Arthur said again.

"Repeating a thing doesn't undo it," Merlin grunted, rubbing the top of his head. "What did you hit me with?"

"I could get rabies," Arthur said, ignoring his servant.

"It's the middle of the night," Merlin sighed, not in the mood to take part in whatever game the prince was playing.

"You're my servant, Merlin. I can call on you anytime it pleases me."

"Arthur," Merlin began, still rubbing his head.

"We're leaving," Arthur said abruptly. "Get dressed."

"Leaving?" Merlin repeated, staring up Arthur in surprise. "Where?"

"Does it matter?" Arthur replied harshly. "We're leaving, Merlin. Now do as I say."

"But-"

"But what?" Arthur asked sharply.

"It's the middle of the night," Merlin snapped back.

"I'm well aware of that, Merlin. So, now that we've both agreed on the time of day, I would remind you of the task at hand. Or can your tiny brain handle something as arduous as putting on a shirt?"

Merlin glared at Arthur. Honestly, it was moments like this that Merlin wanted nothing more than to teach the prince some humility. It would be so easy. A whispered word, a flash of gold and Arthur would never see him as a lowly servant ever again. Arthur thought he knew power, knew strength, but he had no idea. And Merlin could teach him.

Merlin opened his mouth to snap back in anger, but something in Arthur's expression stopped him. Despite the prince's harsh words there was a vulnerability in his eyes that Merlin wasn't used to. Merlin closed his mouth, shook his head once, and threw the covers over the side of the bed. Arthur didn't say a word as Merlin dressed, choosing instead to look out the window of Merlin's room at the moonlit streets of Camelot. Merlin put on his shoes, secured his neckerchief, and turned to face his friend.

"Ready," he said quietly. "You going to tell me what this is all about?"

"No," Arthur replied. "Follow me."

"Why do I even ask?" Merlin muttered under his breath, reluctantly following Arthur out the door of Gaius' home.

Merlin blearily followed Arthur through the darkened castle, fighting to keep his eyes open long enough to reach whatever destination Arthur had in mind. They twisted and weaved until Merlin smelled the tantalizingly warm and crisp scent of baking bread. The kitchens. Arthur had led them into the hallowed halls of the castle cook, but for what purpose Merlin could not discern. Merlin's stomach growled and he looked down at it as if it had betrayed him. It was too early to be hungry. Too early for anything but sleep, yet here he was...awake and hungry.

"Wait here," Arthur told him quietly. Merlin looked up in time to see the prince's back disappear through the kitchen doors.

Merlin heard muffled voices for a moment and then Arthur was back, carrying two loaves of fresh bread, a wheel of cheese, two apples and two flasks of what smelled suspiciously like the cook's famous apple cider. Merlin's mouth watered. The apple cider was a special treat that was usually reserved for festivals and feasts. Even Arthur was rarely served the delicious brew and he must have flirted shamelessly to con such a prize from the cook.

"Breakfast," Arthur said. He handed Merlin an apple, one loaf of bread and one of the coveted flasks. Breaking the cheese in half he took a portion for himself and handed the other to his servant.

"Arthur," Merlin sighed, looking at the food in his hands with longing. "What is going on? You've been acting strangely all week."

"Strangely?" Arthur questioned, tearing off a piece of bread with his teeth and chewing.

"Mean," Merlin amended. "You've been mean."

"I have not," Arthur scoffed.

"Prattyer than ever, sire."

"Merlin, I have not been mean. You're just overly sensitive. Not that uncommon for a girl."

"Arthur-"

"Eat your breakfast," Arthur finally snapped. "You won't have time later."

"What's happening later?"

"You really have no idea how to shut up, do you?"

"I have a right to know what's going on, Arthur."

"No, you don't, Merlin. You're a servant, remember?"

"And you're a prat," Merlin said icily. "We all have our crosses to bear."

Arthur rolled his eyes and refused to say anything more until Merlin had eaten all of his breakfast. Then, with a ridiculous snap of his fingers that made Merlin want to shove Arthur in a dark hole, he ordered Merlin to ready their horses. Merlin continued to needle and prod at where they were going, but still Arthur refused to answer. Even as they made their way out of the city and into the wilderness beyond Arthur remained stoic and aloof.

They had been riding for almost an hour, in a direction Merlin was unfamiliar with, when Arthur suddenly raised his hand and told Merlin to stop. He wasn't entirely sure what they were stopping for. It hadn't been long enough for them to need a break and there was nothing that Merlin could see that was worth halting for. Then, as if from the depths of the earth itself, Merlin could sense a dim form of energy rising up around him. It thrummed against his skin, comforting yet alien. His magic tentatively reached out and mingled with the energy. It was familiar in some way, but for the life of him he could not figure out why.

Merlin watched Arthur slide from his horse and he did the same. As soon as his feet touched the ground the humming stopped, the energy retreated and Merlin felt strangely alone. Abandoned by whatever power had been there. Arthur strode forward and through a grove of trees into what looked like a clearing shrouded by the trees branches. Merlin followed him, but was stopped by the beauty of what lay on the other side.

It was a clearing, but not like any clearing Merlin had ever seen before. The grass was tall and dark, so green that against the contrast of the morning sky above it almost looked black. Bright flowers covered the landscape, dotting the ground with vibrant splotches of red, yellow, pink and orange. The clearing itself was a perfect circle, surrounded by willows, their long branches trailing the ground like elegant fingers. In the middle of the clearing was a large grey stone, surrounded by flowers and what looked like tiny fairy rings. The energy Merlin had felt earlier buzzed around him, fainter than before but strong enough that it made him a little dizzy.

"What is this place?" Merlin asked, coming forward to stand at Arthur's side.

"I used to come here all the time," Arthur said softly. "And then I stopped. I don't know why."

Merlin said nothing. He had the distinct feeling that he wasn't meant to respond just yet.

"I never met her," Arthur continued. "And yet...I feel like I have. Like I should remember her more than I do." Arthur turned to look at Merlin questioningly. "Is that strange? To yearn for someone you've never met?"

Understanding slammed into Merlin like a physical blow. Ygraine. Arthur had brought them to his mother's grave. It explained the familiarity of the energy in the clearing. So like her son's. So like Arthur's.

"Arthur," Merlin began.

"I get so jealous of you sometimes, Merlin."

"Jealous?" Merlin asked, shocked. "Of me?"

"Hunith," Arthur answered. "Your mother. She adores you. Loves you. I can't help but wonder what that feels like."

"Your father," Merlin started.

"My father died the day my mother did," Arthur interrupted. "He may be here physically, but his spirit is gone. All that's left is anger. And hate." There was no bitterness to his words. Just acceptance. Arthur had felt that way for a very long time.

"Your father loves you," Merlin argued.

"Perhaps," Arthur murmured.

"Arthur," Merlin said quietly. "What is this all about? Why did you bring us here?"

"I feel like I've failed her, Merlin."

"Failed her? How could you have possibly failed her?"

"I stopped thinking about her," Arthur said harshly. "I stopped dreaming about her."

"That doesn't mean you failed her," Merlin told him gently, unsure of what to do.

"What do you know about it, Merlin?" Arthur snapped.

"I know what it feels like to miss a parent," Merlin told him quietly. "I know what it's like to feel incomplete."

"Your father?" Arthur asked, raising his head to look at Merlin in a new light.

"Gone before I was born," Merlin replied.

"How did he die?" Arthur questioned. "In the Purge? Did he die fighting against magic?"

"No," Merlin said, attempting to keep his voice steady. "He just left."

"Left?"

"Yes, sire. Left. As in, one morning he was there and the next he wasn't."

"I never knew," Arthur said softly.

"You never asked."

Arthur was silent for a long moment, his face unreadable. Merlin wasn't sure what was happening between them, but he felt sure that it was something that would change their relationship forever. There was a reason that Arthur brought Merlin with him when it would have been so much easier for him to go alone.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Arthur finally whispered.

"You didn't leave. My father did," Merlin said, waving his apology off.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," Merlin said softly. And he did know. Arthur wasn't good at displays of emotion on any scale other than anger. His 'sorry' was more of a general 'sorry for being a prat', but without the emotional commitment that came with a normal apology.

Arthur nodded and looked back at Ygraine's grave. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Forget that he's gone," Arthur said. "Your father. It's like you don't even care."

"I care," Merlin shrugged. "I just...I guess it's different, Arthur. My father chose to leave. Your mother didn't. I can't help feeling angry at him. I suppose that helps."

"You?" Arthur scoffed. "Angry?"

"I can get angry," Merlin said, smiling slightly.

"Right," Arthur snorted. "Name one time you let your temper get the best of you."

"I believe you have a bite mark on your hand that proves I can lose my temper," Merlin said haughtily.

"That was hardly a temper," Arthur laughed, rolling his eyes. "That was surprise."

"Fair enough," Merlin conceded, grinning raucously.

"Merlin," Arthur said, suddenly somber again. "I'm going to sit with her awhile, I think. And I'd like to be alone when I do it."

"Sure," Merlin said, clapping Arthur on the shoulder. "Take your time, sire. I'll wait for the horses."

Arthur nodded then stopped Merlin with a firm hand. "Merlin," he said seriously. "I'm warning you. If I you ever tell a soul about what went on here today I swear I'll-"

"Cut in me into pieces?" Merlin sighed, pulling away. "Rip the meat from my bones? Dip me in a boiling vat of oil?"

"Nothing quite so dramatic," Arthur sniffed. "But, you're heading in the right direction."

"Don't worry," Merlin said, rolling his eyes. "Your secret is safe with me."

Merlin turned away, heading towards the sound of neighing horses.

"Merlin?" Arthur called suddenly.

Merlin turned to face his master with a sigh, already preparing himself for whatever nastiness would come pouring from Arthur's mouth.

"Thank you," Arthur said softly.

Merlin blinked once in surprise then managed to get a hold of himself before nodding once in acknowledgement. As he turned away once more, leaving the prince to his graveside vigil, Merlin was struck by a feeling of hope and empowerment. He had never felt so strongly connected to his destiny before. It had always seemed like an unattainable thing, but now...now it felt closer than ever before. Perhaps it was the energy of the clearing, Ygraine's energy, but for the first time in a long time Merlin felt certain that Arthur truly was the Once and Future King. And Merlin...Merlin was one step closer to the moment he could finally be free.


	2. Two Men and A Baby

Author's Note: I am so happy people like this story so far. Here is the next story in the set and I am going for something a little more comedic this time. I would greatly appreciate some feedback. Reviews give me inspiration to write...which I have not had much time for lately. I would love to find more motivation to do it and your feedback would encourage me greatly. If you like the story that is... :)

*Set sometime in the first season.

Arthur stared at 'the thing' in front of him, his brow furrowed in annoyance, lips set in a petulant grimace. He was certain that Morgana was terribly amused with herself, but he didn't think he had ever found anything less funny in his entire life. What the hell was he supposed to do with it? And why was it just sitting there? Staring at him with bright, inquisitive eyes. Drooling...

"Your disgusting," he told it, curling his upper lip as a large droplet of spit splattered upon his bed cover.

'The thing' responded with a tooth-speckled grin and Arthur grimaced as more drool slid down the corner of it's mouth. The prince toyed with the idea of bolting out the door and leaving the creature to fend for itself, but it would be just his luck for something unfortunate to happen to it while he was gone and then where would he be? Wars had been started over far less and the last thing Camelot needed was the scandal that would result from 'it' getting injured while under his care. Besides, the triumphant look on Morgana's face if he should fail would kill him. There was no way he was going to see her gloating smirk over something as simple as...it.

'The thing' moved suddenly, jerking towards Arthur on unsteady legs, and the prince jumped back as if he were in danger of being stung by something smelly. Or deadly. Or both. Perhaps he was. Arthur's experience with this sort of situation was extremely limited. In fact, he'd only watched the ladies of the court coo over their own from afar. When they had approached him with offers to hold 'it' or kiss 'it' or give 'it' his blessing he had always magically found himself with his arms full. He didn't want one anywhere near him. They smelled funny. And they were always sticky...for no damn reason at all.

Arthur eyed 'the thing' as it waddled towards him, unsure of what his next move should be. He frantically looked for an escape route. He could not explain why, but this creature filled him with more trepidation and horror than any monster, sorcerer or man he'd ever faced. Damn Morgana for doing this to him. And damn his pride. Why did it matter what she thought anyways? Just because she'd mocked his ability to handle 'it' and 'it's' needs didn't mean that he had to step up to the challenge. Why couldn't he just let things be? Why did he always have to take such great offense to the slightest questioning of his capabilities? And where the hell was Merlin? The servant should have come to his rescue by now.

Arthur had sent word down to Gaius' chambers that he was in the middle of a life or death crisis over an hour ago. Of course, he'd neglected to mention what his life or death emergency entailed, but it shouldn't have mattered. Merlin was his servant! Even if Arthur had sent down word that he couldn't find his shoes Merlin should have reacted as if it were the end of the world.

'The thing' suddenly stumbled and Arthur's heart stopped as it collapsed to its hands and knees on the cobble stone floor. 'It's' face looked shocked for a moment, the little mouth opened wide, little teeth glimmering. Then it's eyes crumpled up and it began to scream. Arthur clapped his hands over his ears, heart hammering against his ribs. Fat tears dripped down the creature's face and it reached up to Arthur with little fists opening and closing, screaming and screaming. Endlessly. Shrilly.

Arthur stepped forward slightly, leaning his face away just in case the thing decided to do something other than scream. 'It' kept reaching up to him and for the briefest of moments Arthur's heart softened. Perhaps 'it' was hurt. Perhaps 'it' really needed his help and wasn't just feigning injury to lure Arthur closer. After all, it wasn't like 'things' like this were notoriously dangerous. Women handled them all the time. They even looked like they enjoyed it sometimes. Surely, Arthur could handle something like this. He could be soothing. He could be comforting. He could be...oh, who was he kidding? He'd seen the looks Merlin had given him when he had attempted to the servant up on his darker days. If he couldn't cheer up Merlin, who was a complete idiot and had the personality of an obnoxiously happy puppy, how could ever hope to brighten the spirits of something as complicated as 'it'? He needed Merlin. Except, as usual, Merlin wasn't there when he needed him.

"There, there," he said to the thing, patting it's head akwardly. "Don't cry. It's okay."

The 'thing' shrieked louder and Arthur growled in frustration. The screams were grating at his nerves and Arthur decided that he would take revenge on Morgana as soon as he got rid of 'it'. No, not just Morgana. Merlin to. And the conniving dignitary that had brought 'it' to Camelot. It was all a plot against him...to prove how inadequate he was as a ruler. To show the world how weak he really was. He would not allow this visiting king and his wife to ruin his good name. He would be damned if something like 'it' would break him.

Arthur picked up the shrieking thing from the floor and held it out in front of him as if 'it' were foaming at the mouth. It stared at him, still shrieking, tears dripping down it's cheeks and onto the floor. Of course, it was at that moment, when Arthur was close to screaming himself that his useless servant decided to make his entrance. Arthur turned toward the sound of the door opening, the creature struggling in his grasp and screeching, and watched as Merlin took in the scene playing out in front of him. The servant's eyes widened and he pursed his lips in the annoying fashion that he had.

"Arthur," Merlin said, quieter and calmer than the situation should have warranted. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Arthur cried, shoving 'it' towards Merlin in desperation. "Get it to stop!"

Merlin sidestepped him smoothly and looked at Arthur as if he'd lost his mind. "YOU get him to stop!"

"Merlin," Arthur shouted. "Take it!" The 'thing' shrieked louder at Arthur's raised voice and the prince felt sure he could feel his brain boiling between his ears.

"Nice going, sire. You're a natural at this. You really are."

"Merlin," Arthur growled, trying to fix Merlin with his best 'do it or else' glare. "You are my servant and I demand that you take it."

"How am I supposed to know what to do with him?" Merlin crowed, throwing his hands up.

"You've had experience with these sorts of things," Arthur told him, wincing as 'it' screeched loudly.

"What experience?" Merlin demanded.

"You've delivered cows," Arthur pointed out desperately. "And other animals. You told me. How you took care of the animals back in Ealdor! Surely, this is no different..."

Arthur trailed off as Merlin blinked at him as if he wasn't entirely sure he'd heard the prince correctly. The servant then shook his head with barely concealed disdain. Arthur flushed red and cursed Merlin for being the only person in the history of his life that could make him feel stupid.

"I hardly think they are the same," Merlin said pointedly. "But, you go on ahead and point out their supposed similarities to Queen Alesia and see what she makes of you comparing her only son to a cow."

"Merlin," Arthur pleaded. "I will never ask you to do anything ever again." Merlin snorted at his words and Arthur gritted his teeth to keep from dropping 'it' and knocking out Merlin's teeth for his insolence. He managed to get himself under control and grated out, "Please. Just...help me."

"Alright," Merlin said, grinning like a loon. Arthur went to hand 'it' to Merlin, but the servant sidestepped him again.

"Merlin," Arthur barked. "You said..."

"I said I would help you," Merlin agreed. "But, did you honestly think something like this was going to happen for free?"

"Merlin," Arthur warned, his hands shaking from holding the creature out in front of him for so long. "You are pushing it. I would remind you that I can put you in the stocks for refusing to follow a command."

"You could," Merlin said amiably. "But, then you would still be stuck with Prince Caleb there. And it doesn't look like he's prepared to stop screaming anytime soon." Merlin frowned and looked at Arthur accusingly. "What did you do to him anyways?"

"I didn't do anything," Arthur cried. "It just-"

"He," Merlin corrected with a raucous grin.

"He," Arthur amended through grit teeth. "He waddled and-"

"He waddled?"

"Yes, you idiot. He waddled. It's like walking, but-" Arthur frowned. How did one describe waddling anyways?

"But?"

"You can't seriously be this idiotic," Arthur hissed, narrowly dodging an angry strike from the infantile monster in his arms.

Merlin shrugged then stood, arms crossed, with a serene smile on his face.

"Waddling," Arthur nearly shouted. "Like this..." He bent his knees and walked awkwardly from side to side, attempting to emulate the strange movements he'd seen from the little prince earlier. Merlin's smile grew larger and Arthur instantly realized his mistake.

"That was a sight I shall treasure forever, sire."

"You bloody idiotic, foul, evil little-you knew what I was trying to say all along!"

"I'll admit that waddling was a concept I understood quite well," Merlin said, grinning. "But you explained it so well, Arthur. Really...you should consider teaching."

Arthur was about to open his mouth to let loose a flurry of insults and curses, but right as he did so the baby in his arms made a desperate grab for him. Somehow Arthur missed the movement and by the time he realized what was happening it was too late. One tiny fist clutched the corner of his tunic and the other was curled tightly around a clump of his hair. It pulled, hard, and Arthur was forced to bring the thing closer to him lest it tear his hair out.

The baby continued to carry on with his fit, but now his cries were coming in little hiccups and gasps. His snot was getting all over Arthur's tunic and the prince had to turn away because he felt sure he was going to be sick. They were so disgusting! Snot and spit and...Arthur turned green. He didn't want to think about what else came out of the foul creature in his arms.

"Merlin," Arthur said, turning to see his servant still grinning at him. "Get this thing off of me!"

"No can do," Merlin sighed.

"I'll do anything," Arthur said desperately, knowing he was making a huge mistake, but not feeling like he had any other option.

"Anything?" Merlin asked innocently, as if this hadn't been his plan all along.

"Anything," Arthur repeated instantly.

"Well," Merlin said slowly, pretending to think it over.

The baby chose that moment to sneeze and Arthur nearly crawled out of his skin. It took everything he had not to throw the thing at Merlin and pray to the gods that his clumsy servant had enough sense to catch it.

"Anything," Arthur all but cried. "Just get this thing off me!"

"I want a day off," Merlin said triumphantly. "No...make that two days."

"Done," Arthur said immediately.

"That means no chores, no ordering me around, no knight practice," Merlin continued. "And I get to sleep in for as long as I want."

"Fine," Arthur growled impatiently, holding out the baby to his servant.

"Not so fast," Merlin said. "I know you are going to make me pay for this later so I really need to get something out of it."

Arthur could feel the heat in his belly beginning to spread. He was going to remind Merlin of this moment for the rest of his life. He would destroy him for this.

"What?" Arthur grated out.

"You get to serve me breakfast," Merlin said with a small grin. "In bed."

"Absolutely not! You are out of your mind if you think I would ever bring you-"

"Arthur," Merlin sighed. "I think you are forgetting the way this works. You want something from me and I'm more than happy to help, but...wasn't it you that told me that nothing comes for free?"

"I'm going to kill you," Arthur growled.

"That may be," Merlin agreed. "But at least I'll die with the satisfaction of beating you at your own game. Now...those are my conditions. Take them or leave them."

"Fine," Arthur hissed, wincing as the baby pulled his hair again.

"Promise," Merlin insisted. "Swear it...on your honor."

Arthur cursed. If he swore on his honor then he would HAVE to do what he promised Merlin. His damn pride was getting in his way again. Then the baby coughed and spit ran down his neck and any concerns of his pride flew out the window.

"Alright," Arthur cried, shoving the baby towards Merlin. "I swear on my honor, Merlin. Two days off and I'll serve you breakfast!"

"In bed," Merlin said firmly, refusing to take the baby from him.

"In bed," Arthur agreed instantly.

Merlin grinned and accepted the infant graciously, pulling the child towards him without an ounce of hesitation. The tiny child lay his head on Merlin's shoulder and the servant rubbed his back in soothing circles while whispering calming phrases in the child's ear. Within moments the baby had settled down and Arthur was struck by the sudden silence.

"How did you do that?" Arthur asked quietly, staring at Merlin with something bordering awe. "You just...and he just..."

"I suppose I just have the magic touch," Merlin said, grinning more than Arthur thought the joke warranted. Something about what Merlin said had amused him greatly, but Arthur never knew with Merlin. His servant didn't think like other people thought. He was strange that way.

"Your shirt is in it's mouth," Arthur pointed out, cringing as the little monster stuffed a clump of Merlin's tunic between his lips.

"Arthur," Merlin said, rolling his eyes. "You've got to stop calling him 'it'. He's a baby. Not an inanimate object."

"I don't understand," Arthur whispered, ignoring his servant's chastisement. "Doesn't that bother you? The screaming? The spit?"

"Not really," Merlin said, smiling. "After all, I'm your servant. He's easy compared to you."

"Watch it, Merlin."

"How did you get stuck with him anyways? I thought Morgana agreed to take him while Queen Alesia and King Frederick went hunting with your father."

"She implied that I couldn't take care of him," Arthur grunted. "I told her she was wrong. So we made a little bet."

"Which you lost," Merlin pointed out.

"I did not lose, Merlin. I never lose."

"You lost," Merlin said, matter of factly.

"I did not! The rules clearly stated that I just had to keep him for the day. That I had to take care of him. You, as my servant, count as an appendage of myself. Therefore...I took care of him and therefore...I didn't lose."

Suddenly, Merlin's nose crinkled up and the baby gurgled happily. Arthur was instantly suspicious.

"Arthur," Merlin said, disgust entering his features for the first time. "I think he..." The servant trailed off uncomfortably.

"What?" Arthur asked uncertainly.

"You know..."

"No, Merlin. I do not know."

"I think he took care of business," Merlin whispered, as if afraid the baby would hear.

"Business?" Arthur asked, confused. "What business?"

"Pooped," Merlin said softly, flushing.

"Oh," Arthur said, stepping back from the baby again. "Well...take care of it."

"Me?" Merlin croaked. "But..."

"But what?" Arthur smirked. "We had a deal...remember?"

"Oh gods," Merlin breathed, staring down at the baby's cloth covered rump with terror. "I think it moved, Arthur."

"Have fun, Merlin," Arthur said gleefully, reaching towards the doors to his chambers.

"Wait," Merlin cried. "Where are you going? You can't just leave me here!"

"Sure I can," Arthur grinned. "You want those days off, don't you? And breakfast...in bed?"

"It's not worth this," Merlin said frantically. "I take it back!"

"Merlin," Arthur chastised. "I swore on my honor. I can't go back on my promise. And neither can you. The deal is done."

Arthur swung through the open door as Merlin raised his voice in protest. Arthur laughed and walked jauntily down the hall. Damn, it felt good to win. And who said revenge wasn't sweet? Or, Arthur supposed, in Merlin's case...stinky.


	3. Sharing Is Caring

**Author's Note: **_This little scene takes place in Season 4 right before Uther's death. This will be a fun little one shot. I'll have some more angsty ones in the future, but I'm in a good mood so I'll be nice to our boys. Please review with your thoughts! They are greatly appreciated!_

Merlin.

It was just a name. A fairly strange one, in Arthur's opinion. Yet, the emotional response it evoked in him was startling. Sometimes it was fury. After all, his servant was the most clumsy, irritating and worrisome creature he had ever met. Other times, the sound of the boy's name brought a small, exasperated smile to his lips because, despite everything he was and would one day be, he was incredibly fond of the idiot.

Their friendship was never something he would admit to, not in words anyways. It was an unspoken agreement. A shared knowledge of sorts. Merlin was always there, servant or not. Always supportive, always ready to have his back. It was nice, he supposed. He'd never had a true friend before. Merlin didn't care that he was heir to the throne of Camelot, didn't care that he was Prince Arthur. Arthur could just be Arthur and that, more than anything, made Merlin worth keeping around.

He had never shared a relationship with a servant before. At least, not one he was proud of. It had always been a game, a sort of grotesque activity that he'd amused himself with in his spare time. He'd treated them unfairly. _All_ of them. There had been many before Merlin. Arthur had never kept a servant for long. He'd always assumed them weak, unworthy of his attention. Until, one very strange and bold boy stood up to him. Until he'd been proven wrong.

_Wrong. _It was a word Arthur Pendragon did not like. Being wrong was not something he was used to. He hated being wrong. As a royal, he was very rarely wrong. Not because he was any smarter or logical due to his bloodline, but because most people were too afraid to tell him so. Merlin was never afraid. If anything, the boy seemed to enjoy it. As if seeing how far he could push Arthur was a favorite game, something to amuse himself with. It was another reason Arthur liked him. Their back and forth banter gave the prince something to look forward to each day. Something to count on.

He had never shared his feelings with Merlin. He didn't need to. They weren't much for feelings, really. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Merlin loved feelings. It was Arthur that was more reserved, keeping the man at a distance he felt was respectable for a prince and his servant. Not that it mattered. Merlin could read his moods like a book and usually managed to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him. It was another quality Arthur appreciated in the man.

There was only one problem. Merlin was _always_ there for Arthur. The prince knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the man would stay by his side until his dying breath. But, Arthur? Arthur was not there for Merlin. Not like he should be, not as a friend, which he would never admit that they were.

Of course, it wasn't entirely his fault. He was a prince and since his sister's betrayal and his father's subsequent fall into depression, he was practically king. There wasn't always time for moments between them. Not like there had been in the beginning, when they had just been testing the waters that would become their relationship. Besides, as progressive as Arthur was, as open to change as he wanted to be, having sappy moments with servants was not the way royalty conducted themselves. It just wasn't done. There would always be an image to uphold because as strong as a king was, he was nothing without his supporters. Supporters who had a very old-world view of where servants belonged on the hierarchy of life. He'd already pushed the envelope enough with Guinevere and that was a daily struggle in and of itself.

Still, Arthur tried. They had few moments alone together, but when they did the prince tried to get his servant to open up to him. To talk to him like Merlin had in the years before responsibility and duty overruled Arthur's life. Arthur tried, but Merlin seemed unresponsive. Uninterested in having meaningful conversations or sharing much of anything with him. It worried Arthur. It worried him a lot.

Arthur knew that the man had been hit hard by Morgana's betrayal. They all had. Arthur had nearly come undone when he discovered that she had been lying to him, lying to all of them from the moment she had returned to Camelot. He knew Merlin was upset. They had been friends once. Morgana had been Merlin's strongest advocate in the beginning, constantly defending him and scolding Arthur for any mistreatment the servant suffered at his hands. Yet, Arthur couldn't help but feel that there was more to Merlin's silence than Morgana and her plot against Camelot.

The young man had been keeping secrets from Arthur for a long time. Arthur knew this. Accepted this. He had no clue what Merlin was hiding, wasn't sure he even wanted to know, but he wasn't stupid. The other servants in the castle talked about him all the time, walking past the prince as if he couldn't hear what they were saying. Servants loved rumors like a bar wench loved tips. And Merlin? He was a juicy rumor. Always up to something, although if questioned they could never tell you with any certainty what that something was. He was simply being Merlin. A mystery.

Normally, he didn't mind. Merlin was his own man, after all. He could keep whatever secrets he wanted to. It was never a question of loyalty. Arthur knew Merlin would always remain steadfast to the end. The young man loved Camelot, love her people and loved everything she stood for. No, it was not a question of loyalty at all. Let Merlin keep his secrets. Gods knew he had plenty. It did not bother him.

Except today. Merlin was keeping something from him. Something big. And Arthur wanted in. Wanted to be _let _in. It was clear to him that servant was distracted by something. Arthur had his suspicions on what it was. After all, the other servants loved to talk. He just had to get the man to admit it.

"Merlin," Arthur said lazily, as if he had no ulterior motive for their conversation at all. "What are you doing?"

Merlin jerked in surprise at being addressed, clearly lost in thought, and spilled numerous grapes on the floor. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"What?" the servant barked, looking at the grapes as if they had offended him in some way.

"I said, what are you doing?" Arthur drawled again.

"I would think that was obvious," Merlin replied as he bent down to pick up the grapes. His tone was surly. "I'm fixing you dinner."

"I'm not eating those," Arthur said pointedly, looking at the grapes in Merlin's hands. "And watch your tone. You can't just speak to me any way you want to, Merlin."

Merlin frowned and set the grapes aside before returning to the arduous task of herding the peas on Arthur's plate into a manageable pile. He clearly was not feeling very...Merlinish. Arthur sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"Alright," Arthur said loudly. "What is it? Clearly something is on your mind."

"Nothing is on my mind," Merlin answered immediately, refusing to look at the prince as he gently placed a roll beside the peas.

"Normally, I'd agree with you, Merlin. You are a complete idiot, after all. But something is going on between those ears of yours. Tell me."

Merlin merely stared at him. Arthur drummed his fingers against the wooden table, attempting to appear completely at ease. Why was the man making this so difficult? Just tell him already!

"Look," Arthur sighed, when it became apparent that Merlin was not going to share. "I heard something today."

"Oh?" Merlin asked innocently. Too innocently. "What was that, sire?"

"The festival was today," Arthur said knowingly. "The May festival."

"Yes," Merlin frowned. "I'm aware of that, Arthur. I was there. Remember? Are you sure you're not the one with the addled brain?"

"I never said your brains were addled," Arthur scolded. "Merely that you didn't have one." He shook his head to remind them they were getting off topic. "What did you do at the festival today, Merlin? You weren't with me."

"I don't have to spend every waking moment with you," Merlin said elusively, turning back to Arthur's dinner. "In fact, if I had the choice I wouldn't spend any moments with you. You're awfully boring these days, sire."

"You didn't answer the question, Merlin."

"I called you boring. That should be answer enough."

"Merlin."

"What?" Merlin snapped, exasperated.

"The festival," Arthur repeated, smirking. "What did you do?"

Merlin shrugged and awkwardly handed Arthur his plate. The prince looked at it and rolled his eyes again.

"May I go?" Merlin asked quickly, staring desperately at the door.

"No," Arthur said, taking a bite of his peas. "You certainly may not. Sit."

"What?" Merlin said again, staring at him as if he'd gone mad.

"Is there an echo in here?" Arthur asked impatiently, gesturing at the empty chair beside him with his fork. "I said sit."

Merlin slowly sat, peering apprehensively at Arthur, then the door and back again. It was clear that he did not want to play twenty questions with the prince, but that was exactly what was going to happen until Arthur had what he wanted.

"We never do this anymore," Arthur said conversationally. "Sit and eat together."

"We've never eaten together," Merlin replied blandly. "I serve, you eat. Remember?"

"We eat together when we go hunting," Arthur reminded him. "Plenty of times. If I recall, the last time you called me fat."

"I did not call you fat," Merlin sighed. "I simply said that-"

"You said that the way my chainmail bunched up when I sat made me look pregnant," Arthur argued, blushing slightly at the memory.

"Well," Merlin said testily. "If the armor fits, sire."

"It does fit," Arthur sniffed. "It fits perfectly. I do _not _look pregnant. I look dashing in my armor, Merlin. Women fall at my feet."

Merlin snorted at that and a small grin appeared on his face. Arthur was glad to see it. He'd missed it these past few months.

"You gave me spiced wine," Merlin reminded him, taking the roll from Arthur's plate and tearing off a chunk. "I'm brutally honest when I drink. You know that."

"Such a lightweight," Arthur teased. "Considering you spend every free moment in the tavern you'd think you would have built up more of a tolerance."

Merlin was silent at that. Chewing the roll without meeting Arthur's eyes. The prince sensed weakness and he was going to pounce on it like a wildcat on its prey.

"You know," he said softly. "They call the May festival the Lusty Month of May, don't you?"

"I've heard," Merlin said, his voice taking on a strange pitch. "It's certainly...fitting."

Merlin blushed and Arthur smiled. Yes, he was getting exactly where he needed to.

"What did you at the festival today, Merlin?" Arthur asked again, grinning widely.

"I did -I," Merlin stuttered, refusing to look at him. "Things."

"Things?" Arthur inquired mildly. "What sort of things, Merlin?"

"Festival things, Arthur. You know...things one does at a festival."

"Eat? Drink? Be merry?" Arthur said with a wicked grin. "Those sorts of things?"

"Yes," Merlin cried, exasperation and embarrassment fighting for dominance in his voice. "Can I go now?"

"No," Arthur said evenly. "What sort of 'merry' things did you get up to, Merlin?"

Arthur watched in mild alarm as a vibrant hue of red creeped up Merlin's throat and into his cheeks. He did not think he had ever seen his servant so mortified before. And that was saying something. He'd been in more than a few compromising situations. Then again, so had Arthur.

"Who told you?" Merlin finally blurted out, looking like a tomato.

"Told me what?" Arthur asked innocently, putting a hand to his chest like he had no clue what Merlin was going to say.

"About Victoria?" Merlin muttered, growing even redder. "About the...about what we...what she…"

"Victoria?" Arthur repeated, still playing oblivious. "Who is-"

"Oh drop the act," Merlin snapped. "I know you know. A girl kissed me, alright? It isn't like I've never been kissed before."

"Have you?" Arthur wondered. "You're practically maroon, Merlin. If kissing girls is something you have such practice at then surely you wouldn't be so embarrassed."

"I've had practice," Merlin muttered. "Lots and lots of practice."

Arthur raised his eyebrows and smirked. Merlin glowered at him.

"So," Arthur said, after a moment. "How was it?"

"How-how was it?" Merlin spluttered. "The kiss?"

"Yes," Arthur said enthusiastically. "The kiss, Merlin! How was the kiss?"

"It was...good," Merlin said quietly. "Nice. I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yes, Arthur. I guess."

"Was she pretty?"

"Yes. Very."

"And she chose to kiss you? It wasn't forced or anything?"

Merlin gave him a look and Arthur shrugged.

"There are kissing booths in the Lower Town," Arthur said in way of explanation. "I thought that maybe…"

"You thought I would have to pay to get a girl to kiss me?" Merlin said testily. "Gee, thanks, Arthur."

"I didn't mean that," Arthur rebuked, rolling his eyes. "I just meant that if a pretty girl kissed me out of the blue I would have more to say about it than 'it was nice.'"

"I'm not you," Merlin retorted. "Thank gods for small mercies."

"Merlin."

"Sire," Merlin hissed, breathing in deep and closing his eyes. "It was a kiss, alright? It wasn't a marriage proposal. There is no need to go on and on about it. I don't know who told you in the first place, but...wait, it was Gwain, wasn't it?" Arthur started to answer, but Merlin held up his hand to stop him. For once, Arthur listened. "It doesn't matter. You want to know why it doesn't matter, Arthur? Because it was just a bloody kiss. We were in the market and she caught my eye and then she kissed me. I dropped my drink and she-"

"Wait," Arthur said, shaking his head. "She kissed you and you dropped your drink? Please tell you aren't that big of a spaz, Merlin."

"What was I supposed to do?" Merlin asked, throwing his hands up. "She just sort of grabbed me and I had no place to put my hands so I-I dropped my drink." He frowned and looked away from him. "I just-my hands-and she-she just-I wasn't expecting anything and-"

Arthur began to laugh. He laughed so hard he had to put his own drink down lest it spill down his front. Merlin was not amused and glared at him from across the table.

"It isn't funny, Arthur."

"It is," Arthur gasped, doubling over as mirth overtook him. "I just get this-this mental image of you-of your face-"

Merlin chucked his roll at him and it only made Arthur laugh even harder. Gods, it felt good to laugh like this. It had been so long. Too long. Even if it was at Merlin's expense. It felt damn good.

"So-so what happened next?" Arthur said, finally gaining control over himself. "After you dropped your drink."

"I'm not telling you anything else," Merlin sniffed, still glaring at him.

"Come on," Arthur said, hitting him on the shoulder. "You can tell me."

"Arthur," Merlin began. "I don't-"

"Come on! Stop pretending to be interesting and tell me!"

Merlin stared at him, most likely remembering all the times Arthur had said that to him. It was the prince's way of telling Merlin he was listening. Without judgement. Well, without _too _much judgement.

"There isn't really more to the story," Merlin said after a moment. "She kissed me. I dropped my drink. We danced. And then I came here...to you and your prat face."

"Do you like her?" Arthur asked. "Would you be willing to-"

"No," Merlin said quickly. "I mean, she's nice and pretty and-"

"A good kisser?" Arthur asked, grinning.

"That too," Merlin flushed. "But she and I. It was just a moment in the festival, Arthur. Nothing serious."

"It could be," Arthur told him seriously. "If you wanted it to be. You can have a life outside of your duties here, Merlin."

"I know that," Merlin said awkwardly.

"It's just," Arthur began, but stopped, biting his lip.

"Just what?"

"I never see you with anyone, Merlin. Ever. You are either with me or Gaius or the knights. If you wanted to find someone. A girl. I would be okay with that."

"There isn't time," Merlin said immediately, waving off the prince's sincerity with an awkward hand. "I wouldn't have time to-"

"Make time," Arthur interrupted. "You don't have time because you never ask, Merlin."

"You would never grant me a day off," Merlin scoffed.

"Try me," Arthur smirked.

"Alright," Merlin said boldly. "May I have a day off?"

"Are you going to see Victoria?"

"No."

"Then no, you may not have a day off."

"What?" Merlin spluttered. "You just said!"

"I know what I said," Arthur said evenly. "And when you have a reason...an actual reason...you can have a day off. You don't get a day off to just mope by yourself."

"I don't mope."

"You mope. All the time. It's irritating."

"You're a prat."

"Sticks and stones, Merlin. Besides, you need to come up with new material. Prat is getting old."

"Why do you care so much?" Merlin asked him. "What does it matter to you if I have a girl to spend time with or not?"

"I want you to be happy," Arthur said simply, surprised by his words even as they slipped from his mouth. Not by the truth of them, of course. He _did _want Merlin to be happy. But he'd never expected to say them out loud.

By the look on Merlin's face, it hadn't been the answer he was expecting either. His eyes were wide and his expression looked far mushier than Arthur was comfortable with. Arthur started to open his mouth, to take the whole thing back, but was stopped by Merlin's whisper of, "I am happy."

"Merlin," Arthur said. "You don't have to say that."

"I know I don't," Merlin told him. "I appreciate your concern, but I really am happy. And girls...well, they aren't really in the cards for me right now."

"Why? Before Gwen, I always had time for girls."

"I'm not you," Merlin said simply. "I don't need that much attention."

"I do _not_ need attention, Merlin."

"Sire, you kid yourself. You wouldn't even be able to button up your shirt without me. You need constant supervision." Merlin pursed his lips and shook his head sadly. "And all that posturing you do out on the training field? Clearly a cry for help."

"I don't posture," Arthur told him haughtily. "I swagger. There is a difference. You would know it if you had any charisma."

"Charisma," Merlin snorted. "Isn't that another word for delusions of grandeur?"

Arthur laughed, but he wasn't done with his servant yet. Not by a long shot.

"So," he said slowly. "Why aren't girls in the cards for you, Merlin? I mean, you're not scared of them, are you? Even you might snag one if you tried hard enough."

"I'm not scared," Merlin replied. "Just not interested."

"Ah," Arthur said knowingly. "I see. So, you want a Victor and not a-"

"What?" Merlin said, surprised. "That is not what I meant, Arthur."

"It's okay if that's the case," Arthur told him. "There is nothing wrong with-"

"I know there is nothing wrong with it," Merlin snapped. "But that isn't what I meant. I like girls...just not right now."

"Why?"

"Why are you so interested in this?" Merlin growled. "It's my personal life, Arthur. Butt out."

"Nah," Arthur said, spearing a bit of cold turkey on his fork and throwing it in his mouth. "I don't feel like it. Why don't you just go out with Victoria and see if you like her?"

"Because I like someone else," Merlin finally sighed. "Will you shut up about it now?"

"Who?" Arthur asked eagerly. "Do I know her?"

"You've met," Merlin said cryptically.

"Is it another servant in the court?" Arthur asked. "Maybe Gwen could put in a good word for you and-"

"Arthur," Merlin said softly. "Please. Don't."

Arthur stopped at the sound of Merlin's voice. It was filled with pain and when he looked at the servant's expression it was melancholy. Arthur wasn't sure what to think. He'd never seen Merlin like this before. There was that one time, with the Dragonlord, that Merlin had cried, but that was so long ago. And this...Merlin was hurting, but Arthur didn't know why.

"Merlin," Arthur said. "It can't be that bad. I mean, you have a chance with her, right? We can make you look good. I'll help and Gwen-"

"Arthur," Merlin said again. "It won't matter. Nothing you do will matter. Alright?"

"Why wouldn't it-"

"Because she's dead," Merlin finally whispered. His voice was tired. "She's dead, Arthur."

Arthur stared at his friend, at a loss for words. How could he have not known about this? How could Merlin have kept this from him? Was he so engrossed in his own life that he didn't even notice that Merlin had been in love? That his love had been taken from him? No, he had not been a good friend at all.

"When did this happen?" Arthur asked quietly. "Merlin, why wouldn't you have said something?"

"Because it was easier not to," Merlin told him. "It was easier to pretend that everything was perfectly fine because that is what you expect of me, Arthur. Perfectly fine."

"No," Arthur started, but stopped when Merlin looked at him.

"Alright," Arthur said slowly. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I expect you to be 'fine' because I need you to be. I need you to be Merlin. Without that I'm…" He shook his head at the emotional words and looked back at his friend. "How did it happen?"

"Fever," Merlin said, sucking in a breath. Arthur could instantly tell that the servant was lying to him, but he decided not to push it. He'd certainly pushed enough that night. "One night she was fine and then...she was gone."

"You said we've met," Arthur said gently. "Who was she?"

"Just a girl," Merlin said, evasive again. "A visitor from a village by a lake. You met her in passing. You wouldn't remember her."

"Her name?"

Merlin shook his head once and would not answer. He couldn't even look Arthur in the eye. The prince instantly regrette bringing the topic up. He should have left well enough alone. But, if it brought them closer, if it made Merlin open up to him then maybe it would be worth it.

"Alright," Arthur said slowly. "You don't have to tell me, Merlin. Just...just know that I'm here. For you, I mean. You don't have to be fine for me. That was an unfair expectation. I'm...I'm sorry."

Merlin was silent for a long time. Finally, he stood up and met Arthur's eyes.

"May I go?" he asked again.

Arthur relented.

"Yes, you may go, Merlin."

The servant nodded once and turned to file out the door. He pulled it open, perhaps harder than he meant to in his emotion, but stopped, one hand gripping the door as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.

"Thank you," Merlin said quietly.

"For what?" Arthur asked, watching him closely.

"For listening," Merlin replied, not turning to look at him. "For caring."

"Of course," Arthur said gruffly, blushing with his own emotions.

"And Arthur?" Merlin said, finally turning to look at him. "I want you to know that I _am_ happy. Here. With you. With the knights."

"I know," Arthur told him. "I know you are, Merlin. And I'm...I'm glad. But, you should know. When the time comes, when it's the right moment, you'll meet someone and this pain you are feeling...it won't hurt as much anymore. When you're ready to move on...from me...from Camelot, to start your own life...I'll understand."

"Already counting down the days, sire. Already counting down the days."

Arthur threw peas at him as he ducked out the door, laughing. He was secretly glad that Merlin answered his show emotion with sarcasm. It made things easier. Then again, he suspected Merlin knew this and did it for his benefit. After all, Arthur would never admit they were friends, but they were. And Arthur wouldn't have it any other way.


	4. I Say Jump

**Author's Note: **_Some of you might recognize this from another story I'm writing called Sacrifice is Forever. If you haven't seen it, check it out. I turned this into a one shot for this set of stories. As always, please read and review. _

Arthur's strange and unorthodox relationship with his servant was a popular topic of discussion among the citizens of Camelot. Arthur knew this, but had never felt any real compulsion to explain himself. His friendship with Merlin was the only thing he could call his own and was one of the few things that brought him happiness. The young man was Arthur's opposite in almost every way, fire to his water, hot to his cold, but their differences only strengthened their bond.

Of course, it hadn't always been that way. The first few months of their companionship had been nothing but rocky and Arthur had put Merlin in the stocks more times than any other man or woman in Camelot. He was fairly certain that his servant still held the record and would continue to do so for many years to come. They had fought relentlessly, argued tirelessly, and insulted one another in ways that had made the serving girls blush. He still remembered Merlin's first day with almost painful clarity. It hadn't been one of his proudest moments. Partly because it was the first time Merlin humbled him in front of his knights and partly because he'd deserved to be humbled.

Breakfast that morning was the first time Arthur had seen his servant since he'd been assigned his position in the royal household two days previous. Arthur had never been a morning person, but he'd woken up with a pounding headache because he'd drank too much wine the night before and was in a fouler mood than usual. He certainly hadn't been in the mood for talkative servants and he definitely hadn't been prepared for the radiant ball of sunshine that was Merlin in the morning.

He'd woken to the sound of clanging metal and a pained curse from the corner of his bedroom. He looked up blearily only to be greeted by his servant's sheepish face as he hurriedly tried to straighten the armor he'd knocked to the floor. Arthur groaned and his head flopped back on the pillow in annoyance.

"I hoped you wouldn't show up," he said, his eyes closing against the bright light that filtered through his window.

"What kind of servant would I be if I didn't show up?" Merlin asked cheerily.

"The nonexistent kind," Arthur snapped.

"Arthur," Merlin sighed. "I've—"

"Sire. You address me properly, Merlin. Sire. My lord if you want to get creative."

"Fine, but only if you call me your highness."

Arthur's eyes snapped open and he looked over at his new servant incredulously. Merlin stared calmly back at him, lips quirked in amusement. There was no fear in his servant's eyes, no concern that he'd overstepped his boundaries. Arthur didn't know if this was because Merlin wasn't aware he _had_ boundaries or if he simply didn't care. Arthur strongly expected the latter and he pushed himself up on his elbows so he could see the young man better.

"Do you have a death wish?" the prince asked quietly.

"Not particularly."

"Are you sure about that? The way you speak to me seems to suggest otherwise."

"Are you saying you're going to kill me? Honestly, Arthur, that is no way for our relationship to begin."

"We have no relationship, Merlin. You are my servant and I am your master."

"You aren't my master," Merlin said calmly, but Arthur could hear an undercurrent of anger in his voice. "I CHOSE to work for you. I wasn't forced into it."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you choose to work for me, Merlin? I don't even like you."

"The feeling is mutual," Merlin grimaced. "But, for the moment I have nothing better to do."

"Nothing better to do," Arthur repeated slowly, getting to his feet. "Did you just recently become a complete idiot or is it a life long trait?"

"It comes and goes. An unfortunate affliction I suppose, but I'd rather be an idiot some of the time than a prat _all _of the time. How difficult life must be for you."

"You can't speak to me like that," Arthur growled, throwing his tunic over his head.

"You keep telling me that, but you have yet to give me a reason not to."

"Merlin," Arthur hissed, taking a threatening step towards his new servant, his hands balled into fists. Merlin smoothly sidestepped him, gesturing towards the table.

"Breakfast," he said smugly. "And tea to help with your headache."

"I don't have a headache," Arthur lied even as he winced from the morning sun streaming into his chambers. He sat down at the table and looked over the assorted food Merlin had brought him. He had to grudgingly admit it wasn't half-bad.

"Right," Merlin snorted. "You don't have a headache and your pained grimace is completely normal. Tell me, _sire_, did your face recently start looking like a constipated rat or is it a life long trait?"

Arthur had a spoonful of honey and mash in his mouth when his servant's words registered in his brain. He spluttered in disbelief, choking on the mash, and coughing it out all over his chin and tunic. Merlin stared at him, eyes wide, biting his lip and trying hard not to smile. Arthur glared at him. Normally his cold blue eyes worked wonders on the servants, but Merlin seemed immune to his steely anger. If anything the young man was more amused than before.

"That's a very good look for you, sire. It really reflects your inner beauty. You should wear it more—" Arthur threw his bowl of mash at the servant's face and smiled triumphantly when it found its mark. He never missed.

The bowl clattered to the floor and Merlin stood silently, dripping sticky mash, attempting to wipe it from his eyes and nose. Arthur stood, pushed him to the side, and made his way over to his dressing shade, picking another tunic up from the floor as he went.

"I think I'll go without breakfast for today," Arthur said maliciously. "Clean this mess up and meet me outside in the training yard. You'll be a perfect dummy for my knights to practice their swordsmanship on." Arthur clapped the young man on the shoulder on his way out and grinned. "Remember, Merlin, you _chose _to work for me. You can leave any time you want to."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Merlin replied stonily.

Arthur had left the castle in high spirits. He was all but certain he'd seen the last of his annoying new servant. There were few who had the courage to go up against Arthur and though Merlin had showed more guts than any man previous he would be a fool to continue. What was he trying to prove? What could he possibly have to gain from warring with the crown prince? No, Merlin would give up his hopeless quest to make Arthur look like an idiot. He had to because if he continued Arthur would ruin him, would destroy him so completely that there would be no choice but for him to return to whatever hole in the ground he'd come from.

He donned his armor with a smile and strode confidently out onto the training field where his knights were waiting. There was laughter coming from the small group of men and Arthur wondered what inspired such amusement from the normally solemn men. Even Sir Leon was smiling and he was the most serious man Arthur had ever met. He moved closer and his jaw dropped in horror as he heard a voice he'd hoped to never hear again. Merlin's voice. Merlin was making his knights laugh. _His _knights. Arthur felt unreasonable fury surge through him and the urge to pummel his servant within an inch of his life became stronger than ever before.

"Merlin," Arthur hissed, pushing through the circle and grabbing Merlin's tunic in his fist. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"You told me to be here," Merlin replied calmly, looking at Arthur's fists without worry or fear.

"You weren't actually supposed to show up," Arthur growled, squeezing his fists tighter.

"How was I supposed to know that?" Merlin asked. "You need to work on your communication skills, sire. I am not a mind reader, you know."

Arthur's men snorted in amusement, but grew silent when their prince glared at them with murder in his eyes. Arthur roughly pushed his servant aside and angrily pulled a crossbow from the weapon rack built into the stone of the courtyard.

"We'll be practicing with bows today," Arthur told his men, meeting Merlin's gaze with a cocky smirk. His servant rolled his eyes and Arthur frowned. "I want each of you to line up with a target and try to hit as many bulls-eyes as you can. I'll demonstrate."

Arthur brought his bow up and took a deep breath. He could see Merlin out of the corner of his eye watching him with intense curiosity and Arthur felt a mild pang of guilt in his stomach at what he was about to do. He shook the feeling away with another deep breath and grit his teeth as he fired the bow. The arrow hit its mark with a satisfying thud and Arthur grinned as he looked back at his knights for their approval.

"There will be a reward," Arthur continued. "To the knight that hits the bulls-eye the most." He looked towards Merlin and gestured with his head. "Go get my arrow, Merlin, and be quick about it."

Merlin sighed, but trudged towards the target some thirty paces away. Arthur silently reloaded his bow and aimed it at the earth just ahead of his servant's feet. He fired and felt the familiar surge of adrenaline rush through him. The bolt speared the dirt inches from Merlin's toes and the young man jumped back in surprise.

"Sorry," Arthur called gleefully. "That was a complete accident, Merlin. My finger just slipped."

His servant looked back at him disdainfully. Arthur shrugged then gestured him forward again with his fingers. Merlin didn't move. He crossed his arms, planted his feet, and scowled. The surge of adrenaline in Arthur's stomach grew into a frenzy at the man's stubbornness.

"What are you doing?" Arthur called to him, already fitting another bolt in his bow.

"You did that on purpose," Merlin said quietly, pointing down at the arrow at his feet.

"So?" Arthur snorted. "I told you to do something, Merlin. Now do it."

"Do it yourself," Merlin told him, narrowing his eyes.

Arthur's jaw dropped open. He hadn't foreseen these particular turn of events. Never in his life had a servant stood up for themself. He'd seen tears, he'd seen anger, he'd seen humiliation, but defiance? This was something entirely new to him and any enjoyment he might have found in the situation was suddenly taken from him. He knew his knights were watching the sudden power-play occurring between the two of them and the need to make Merlin look like a fool intensified.

"I don't think you understand what being a servant means, Merlin," Arthur said raising the bow and aiming it at the edges of Merlin's toes.

"Enlighten me then," Merlin replied disdainfully.

"I say jump," Arthur growled with his finger on the trigger. "And you say how high."

Arthur released another arrow and it landed even closer than the first. Merlin flinched, but didn't move. The young prince smirked and shook his head. His words from the market still rung true. Merlin was an idiot, but at least he was a brave one.

"You didn't say how high," Arthur called to the young man, looking around at his knights for approval. He was not met with their customary smiles and he frowned.

What was it about Merlin that instantly made people like him? Why didn't anyone see what Arthur saw when dealing with the man? He was disrespectful, nosey, idiotic, clumsy, and downright strange so why was it that people seemed to gravitate towards him? True, Merlin had saved his life, but he would have handled the situation with the witch just fine on his own. He would have moved out of the way of the dagger eventually, but Merlin had to jump in and be the hero.

"Stop it, Arthur," Merlin told him quietly. "I've had enough."

"Why? It's funny."

"No, it isn't," Merlin snapped. "It's childish and cruel."

"Say please," Arthur replied with a devilish grin, loading the bow once more.

"No."

"Manners, Merlin. Obviously your pig of a mother never bothered to teach you any so I suppose I'll have to."

Arthur wasn't sure what happened next. He'd raised the bow and aimed it so that the arrow would whiz by his servant's side with an inch to spare, but he hadn't planned on Merlin taking an angry step towards him. He supposed that insulting his mother was taking his feud with Merlin a bit too far. After all, if somebody had spoken of his mother in such a manner Arthur would have torn them apart.

Still, Merlin hadn't moved earlier so there was no reason to think he would now. Only he did move and Arthur's plan to humiliate his servant nearly turned disastrous. If he'd been the tiniest bit off in his calculations he could have killed the young man. Arthur was already turning towards his knights when he heard Merlin cry out in pain. His head whipped back around at the sound and he watched in horror as Merlin pressed a hand to his side. There was no arrow through his flesh, but that didn't mean anything. It could have easily grazed him and while such wounds were rarely serious they could be painful and deep enough to need medical attention.

"Merlin," Arthur called nervously, moving towards his servant's side. "Stop fooling around. No one believes that you're actually hurt. I didn't even come close to—" Arthur broke off when Merlin's hand came away scarlet and the bile rose in his throat. He'd hit him. He'd actually hit him.

There would be no punishment for Arthur. At least not one forced upon him. Uther treated servants in the same manner as most of the nobles of Camelot did. They were expendable and their word meant very little. Even if Arthur did kill Merlin his father would caution him for any future servants, but little more. Arthur often treated his servants with disrespect, but he never wished any of them real harm. And certainly not at his own hand.

"You idiot," Arthur said softly, pulling Merlin's hand aside to look at the wound. "You weren't supposed to move."

"You insulted my mother," Merlin hissed, jerking away from him. "You can insult me all you want, Arthur Pendragon, but you leave my mother alone. She's a better person than you'll ever be."

"It was an accident," Arthur began, looking nervously at his knights who were watching him like a hawk. "I didn't think that—"

"That's your problem," Merlin said loudly. "You don't think about anyone but yourself. You're selfish, arrogant, and a bully. You want to know why I took this job, Arthur?" Arthur was about to tell him no. No, he didn't want to know, but Merlin never gave him the chance. "I took it because I thought that you could be more than you are now. I thought maybe you could be a great man one day and I wanted to be a part of that, but now I see how foolish I was. Some people change, Arthur, but not you."

"Merlin," Arthur began, flushing in embarrassment. "You can't talk to me—"

"I'll talk to you in the manner you deserve," Merlin snapped back. "Just because you're born a prince it doesn't mean you've earned the right to treat people however you wish. Without the actions that go with the word you're nothing more than a title, Arthur."

Merlin shook his head in disgust, strode towards the target and ripped the arrow from its center. His eyes were hard and Arthur was once again struck by some unfamiliar sensation. There was something about the boy that called to Arthur like a voice upon the wind. He disliked him, true enough, but all the dislike in the world couldn't hide the fact that being near Merlin made Arthur see differently, see his world in a better light. Arthur met his gaze even as the young man dropped the arrow he'd been ordered to fetch at his feet.

"How high?" Merlin said quietly.

The young man met his eyes for a moment longer then turned and walked back across the courtyard. Arthur watched him go, stunned into silence. He couldn't think of anyone, other than his father, that had ever shamed him so thoroughly. He couldn't bear to turn around and look at his knights, the approval he'd sought from them earlier turned sour and stale in Merlin's wake. He dismissed them with a silent wave of his hand and refused to turn around until he'd heard the last of them file across the courtyard, whispering to one another beneath their breath.

Arthur stood there for a long time, attempting to work through everything Merlin had said to him. Nothing more than a title. Was that true? He had the respect of a prince, the looks of a prince, but did he have the character? Ten years ago he would have answered yes without hesitation, but times had changed. Arthur had changed. He was no longer the boy he'd once been. He'd grown up, as all boys must do, but he'd lost something along the way.

He tried to remember the last time the servants had smiled at him like they had when he was a boy. The last time he'd been greeted in the streets with the enthusiasm he remembered receiving as a child. Once more, he tried to remember the last time one of his servants remained with him for more than a few months at a time. He'd always assumed that they had been unfit for the rigorous schedule a prince held. It was only now that he began to wonder if they were more fit than he'd originally thought, but had fled because Arthur drove them away.

He'd played a few tricks, had a few laughs, but always under the assumption that the servants knew he was only playing. He'd never planned on being cruel…or had he? Was the surge of adrenaline he felt when he teased and taunted his servants enjoyment at their pain? Was he really that kind of monster?

Arthur shook his head and looked in the direction he knew his most recent servant had headed. He wasn't that kind of man. He knew it and would just have to prove it to Merlin. He would show the silly little man that he was much more than a title. He was the crown prince of Camelot. He would have to apologize, which would be painful. And he would have to keep Merlin on as his servant which would be downright torture, but if it proved the young man wrong then perhaps it would all be worth it.

Arthur made his way to Gaius's chambers and knocked on the door. He heard shuffling inside and his stomach tied itself into anxious little knots. He frowned at the emotion and shook it away, refusing to be nervous in front of Merlin. He expected Gaius to open the door, but it was Merlin who stood across the threshold. His smile was open and friendly until he realized who his visitor was, but as soon as he saw Arthur's face his expression turned guarded and unwelcoming.

"Merlin," Arthur heard Gaius call from inside. "Who is it?"

"It's Prince Prat," Merlin mumbled.

Arthur sighed. Merlin wasn't going to make apologizing easy.

"Who?" Gaius shouted.

"Prince Arthur," Merlin said, clearer and louder than before.

"Arthur," Gaius said quietly, his expression guarded as his face peered around the doorframe. Merlin must have told him about the training fiasco and the old man was convinced Arthur was there to clap Merlin in chains. "What brings you here, sire?"

"I've come to speak to Merlin," Arthur said softly.

"He's not here at the moment," Merlin replied stonily, trying to shut the door in Arthur's face.

Arthur stopped it with his foot, but was surprised when he felt Merlin put his weight against it and push.

"Merlin," Gaius crowed. "You can't slam the door in the prince's face!"

"Watch me," Merlin grunted as he attempted to push the door closed. Arthur merely braced his knee against it and slipped his foot inside. Arthur felt the pressure on the door ease and pulled his foot out, thinking the young man had given up on his endeavor of keeping him from entering. It wasn't until he'd slipped his fingers through the crack of the door that he learned otherwise.

Merlin, determined in his quest to keep Arthur as far away from him as possible, stepped back from the door only to shove himself back against it with all his strength. He didn't see Arthur's fingers curl around the edges of the doorframe, but he heard the crunch of wood against bone when it connected with them.

Arthur cursed as pain exploded through his hand and he yanked it back even as the door bounced off his knuckles. The rough wood tore through his skin and blood bubbled up from the small gashes across the edges of his fingers. He could tell by how they throbbed that they weren't terribly deep, but he knew that they would sting tremendously and he wondered if any of his fingers had been broken.

The door slowly creaked open and Arthur glanced up at his servant. Merlin had gone sheet white and was staring at Arthur as if he were about to throw up. Arthur shambled a few feet away from him just to be safe.

"Did I just—" Merlin began breathlessly.

"Yes," Arthur hissed, holding his fingers.

"You're bleeding," Merlin said quietly.

"Really?" Arthur snapped. "I hadn't noticed, Merlin. What would I do without your keen sense of observation?"

"Arthur," Gaius said, studying the two of them in mild exasperation. "Come inside and let me take a look at that. I've already bandaged one wound today. I might as well take care of another."

"Arthur," Merlin was saying as Gaius led him towards a chair. "I'm sorry. I didn't even see your hand in the door. I thought—"

"You thought that shutting the door in the face of royalty was a good idea," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. "I can't hold you accountable, Merlin."

"Really?" Merlin said slowly, disbelief etched on his face. "You aren't mad?"

"Being angry at you for your idiocy would be like you being angry at me for how good looking I am," Arthur shrugged. "We're just born that way, Merlin."

Merlin frowned and Arthur sighed. Apparently they weren't ready to insult one another just yet. Merlin was still too furious with him. He felt bad about slamming his fingers in the door, but that didn't mean the servant had forgiven Arthur yet.

"How's your side?" Arthur inquired softly when Gaius slipped from the room to locate some balm he'd created earlier that day for swelling.

"Fine," Merlin replied briskly. "It wasn't that deep. Gaius fixed me up."

"I came here to say that I'm sorry," Arthur sighed.

"Come again?"

"I said that I'm sorry."

"You may have to say that a little bit louder because I have a hard time—"

"Merlin."

"Sorry, but it's not everyday you have a prince apologize to you."

"Don't let it go to your head. It won't be happening again."

"Why?" Merlin asked him after a moment.

"Why what?"

"Why apologize to me? I'm the servant, you're the master, remember? So why?"

"Because…because you were right, Merlin. I wasn't acting very princely."

"No. You weren't."

"And because you made me realize that I haven't been acting very nicely."

"No. You haven't."

"You don't have to agree with me, you know. You can disagree anytime you like. You're good at that."

"I thought you wanted me to be sycophantic," Merlin shrugged. "Yes, sire. No, sire. That sort of thing."

"I don't want you to be anything," Arthur laughed. "I never wanted you as a servant, Merlin. I never asked for it."

"Neither did I, Arthur. Being your servant was the last thing I wanted to do."

"Then why accept?"

"A chance."

"A chance?" Arthur asked. "What does that mean?"

"I accepted because there is a chance you're actually a decent man, Arthur. I accepted because there is a chance you'll be something great. I accepted because there is a chance that one day you and I will be friends."

"Doubtful," Arthur snorted.

"Which part?"

"You and I being friends."

"Then I guess I'll have to settle for the other two."

"You're not quitting then?"

"I never said I was."

"No, I suppose you didn't, but I thought—"

"Arthur," Merlin said seriously. "I won't quit. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try…I won't quit. I'm here, Arthur Pendragon. Whether you like it or not."

"Merlin," Arthur said after a moment. "You're a very strange man."

"Sire," Merlin snorted. "You have _no_ idea."


End file.
